Father Figure
by lovesrainscent
Summary: Temari has discovered a weakness in herself she can only admit to one other person. And that person is her weakness.


**Title:** **Father Figure**

**Author:** Lovesrainscent

**Pairing: ** Temari/Shikaku

**Rating: T**

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Naruto or these characters and do not stand to make any profit from posting this story._

**Summary: ** Temari has discovered a weakness in herself she can only admit to one other person. And that person is her weakness.

**Father Figure**

Temari pauses with her hand at the door. She hesitates but she knows she'll enter. She always does.

It's the _thrill_ she savors, she lies to herself. The sheer scandalous nature of it all is exhilarating.

Nara is on the other side of that door.

_Shikaku_ Nara.

Quietly she slips in the door and he sees her and smiles. Same half-smile as his son, but his eyes are darker with a desire that Shikamaru's never shown.

_Dangerous._

_He's_ dangerous.

What they're _doing_ is dangerous.

The others at this joint meeting - her brothers, his Hokage, the other Kages...

What would they_ think?_

He rises to meet her. Cupping her face in both hands he whispers her name as he tips her face up and leans in to press his lips to hers.

Melting into him, she won't admit that it's more than the sake tinged kisses. More than the scratchy feel of his beard against her tender skin.

Lazily he undoes the sash of her silk robe, fingers slipping inside. Rough hands against her smooth belly make her heartbeat race. Hands skimming up her body he brushes the robe back off her shoulders and it puddles in the floor at her feet.

In the dim light his eyes are dilated, the pupils consume his dark irises turning his eyes into pools. Watching him watch her she thinks she'll drown.

It's such a luxury for Temari, the sheer unhurried nature of it all. There's nothing rushed about this man.

At first she would have been frenzied in her efforts to unclothe him, tugging at his fishnet shirt, the waistband of his pants. But he's taught her that there's plenty of time for that. She takes it slow, brushing her smaller hands over the breadth of his chest feeling the checkered pattern of fabric over skin, warmth and cloth alternating. Plucking at the fishnet then slipping palms beneath the shirt to rest flat against his chest, skating higher.

Shikaku releases her and shrugs out of the shirt and pants before embracing her again. Temari grips his biceps that are rock hard and tighten as he lifts her. She flicks playfully at his nipple with her fingers and feels him smile into the kiss they share as he turns her body and guides her to the bed, sinking into it with her.

And Shikaku doesn't mind if she sobs or cries or even scratches. He's not a boy, he can take it, not like those stupid little boys back in Suna who are actually afraid of her.

Afterwards, he doesn't even mind that she's limp and weak in his arm, trembling as he pulls her onto his chest smoothing her hair and hushing her with kisses.

Temari closes her eyes and admits to herself that here, lying in his arms is the only place where it's safe for her to be weak.

She's never been weak.

She's always taken care of herself.

Ever since...

She's _never_ been weak. Never _had_ anybody to take care of _her._ Never _needed_ anybody.

With her head pillowed on his chest and lulled by his heartbeat she thinks about their situation. Sometimes she comes close to admitting to herself what it is about him that's so different than any other lover she's ever taken.

He's everything she never had.

He makes her feel secure.

Safe.

Strong arms and large strong hands hold her tight and she's _safe._

There's a memory that's dancing at the edge of her consciousness but she quickly slams the door on it.

The End

_**A/N:** Shikaku/Temari is wonderfully wrong on so many different levels. I couldn't resist. Thanks to both Lady Avaritia for "Daddy Issues (Anko/Orochimaru)" and Unmotivated Genius for "Forbidden Fruit (Shikaku/Temari)" for the inspiration those stories provided.  
><em>


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